Transference
by Jennifer Wilson
Summary: He dies. Guang moves on. "In his defence, he had found himself in a furnace that was literally roaring in his ears." A ghost carries on years after his death. But he is always looking for someone. (Hint: You know Guang. Think.)
1. Childhood

The moment he woke up, he screamed.

In his defense, he had found himself in a furnace that was literally roaring in his ears.

His disconcertion was further provoked by the hand sticking through the door of the furnace, seemingly untouched by the sweltering heat or that he was going through _a solid object_.

"Oh must I tell you each step? Hurry up and take my hand!" Nonplussed, he obediently took it, only to be whisked through several peach trees before landing in an open field.

As he stood shivering in the suddenly cold environment, the person sighed and muttered something as he took out a writing brush.

"Hold still." He watched as the man slowly painted a word on his skin. 光 (Guang). A character that represented light, and radiance. Hardly used to describe someone like _him._

Once, but not anymore.

"This would be your new name from now on!" He nervously rubbed the new word, as he looked at the person who had named him.

* * *

He watched as his lord- for that was what the man was now- turn on his heel away from the cries of those who asked for his help.

"Please help us!" The family cried, as its head kowtowed before him. Their clothes were made from silk brocade (1) but was nearly worn through with wear and tear. Their eyes were filled with fear, akin to cornered prey. They were helpless in every sense of the word.

He shouldn't do anything. He's not a god. He's the _lowest_ of them all. (2) 

I swear to always look after your interests and hold your father dear... This is my duty: to repay the Late Emperor's kindness and to display my loyalty to Your Majesty...

He stops, and motions to the tired, weakened family. He's made a promise after all.

His lord glances at him with indifference.

"Come to my temple. Hide." His throat feels rough, his words shaky, and his tongue thick with emotion he can't explain.

The smiles that lit up the faces of his new followers, nay worshippers easily made up for the distress he feels. His lord is still watching. But for the first time, he has acted on his own will. He can't decide whether to be proud or not.

* * *

His lord _no no where is he?_ calls for him. He rushes to his aid, wary of the beasts that prowl about this mountain, only to find himself in front of a grove of trees.

"This shall be your home." Guang stares at the cleared land in bewilderment. Half hidden by the peach trees is a _temple_ , newly built. However, he can feel the _loneliness_ emanating from the building. He hears the squeaking rats, the wind rushing through empty alcoves and the whistles commonly associated with cemeteries. Despondence permeates the atmosphere, giving it a desolate feeling.

 _Home?_ He whispers, fingers coming away with a thick layer of dust. Home is-warm; gratified hands, river rushing through a deep valley, loud excited voices thronging the air-

A quiet hut, with low voices speaking of ambition. Whispers filled with hidden emotions. A map of the world.

Home is where lies the people he cares about. But where are they? He sees the empty temple, and wonders.

* * *

Occassionally, they get visitors. They stay at the inn, drink at the tavern and feast on the assorted peach and plum derived dishes. They offer incense at his temple as well, though all he really needs is a gentle reminder that he exists. Sometimes, when he is in the mood, he drops in mid-prayer.

One such person is an old gentlemen, who arrives five years after the Taos （桃） and three years before the Lis (李）. He weeps upon seeing the peach trees surrounding his temple, and cries even more when he encounters the head of the Tao clan.

"My son..." They wrap arms around each other, begging forgiveness and compassion. They share the same noble countenance, but while the elder looked as though he had never stepped out of the city, the younger clan head had been busy maintaining the peach groves and vegetable farms that his family owns. One has soft hands with a callus formed from brush holding. The other has rough hands borne from years of work in the fields.

He steps towards them, intending to have a closer look. The two separate quickly upon seeing his footsteps. The older gentleman looks up and falls to his knees, tugging on the red and white robes he had decided to wear.

He whispers three words, over and over, but Guang refuses to identify the words. Instead, he kneels, pulling the older gentleman up with him.

The older gentleman notices the word carved in ink upon his body. He quirks a smile, and thanks both the Tao clan head and him. It would be the last time the two saw him. He's returning to the capital after this trip permanently; he had taken a risk by coming here so soon after the Regent's death, but the look in his eyes tells Guang that this experience was worth climbing up the mountain.

Warm gratified hands enclose his once more-but they are _not_ the same.

* * *

His home starts to fill with people. The head of the first family he picks up settles and changes his name to Tao, after the peach trees that surround the temple. Then, the Lis, this time after the plum tree half a mile away from his temple. Then the Lu, Jiang and Zhang clans move in, the social upheaval in the country tearing their hometowns apart.

The Zhang set up a butcher shop attached to an inn. He finds that particularly amusing for a reason he can't remember. He suggests that they set up a tavern as well, selling wine made from the peaches that reach the land they chose.

The Taos, now numbering over thirty diversify into making carts, hoes and cooperating with the Jiang in making tools. The Li find their ideas amusing, and invest in them. They've made profits from the sale of their plum wine and other derived products. They become merchants who travel around the nearby villages, and attribute their rapidly rising star to him.

The older gentleman dies in the capital, three years after his trip. The Li are competent information gatherers after all.

Before he knows it, his temple has become the centre of a bustling mountain village. The blessed soil has allowed crops to grow _beautifully_ year in and year out. The seclusion of being located on a mountain has prevented them from suffering the social upheaval that has spread throughout the country. The groves of peach trees have ensured that news of the village does not get out to any enterprising government official.

His temple itself has changed. Filled with devotees, it becomes the landmark of the surrounding area. In return for the no longer empty antechambers and the central room filled with incense, he does his best to provide a thick fog surrounding the mountain, hiding human activity.

Meanwhile, the village expands.

* * *

1\. Silk brocade-Silk was one of China's three top inventions. Here, I was specifically hinting to the background of the Tao clan. They are rich enough to be wearing brocade, which is heavily embroidered silk and thus very expensive

2\. Lowest of the low—Guang is a Chinese ghost. He does not haunt others. Instead, he feeds on sacrifices and looks after the village in exchange—he acts as the land god of the village even when his status is a ghost. More on that later.


	2. Adolescence

_Confucius: I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand._

The village expands. The quaint countryside proves a safe heaven for the restful and those who wish to remove themselves from public. Exiles come here, looking for peace.

Those who wish to disrupt the tranquility turn away. The village does _not_ tolerate those who destroy the restful atmosphere.

On his infrequent travels outside the village, he hears that it has become known for being _the_ place for court officials which have nowhere to go after losing everything. He thinks it's their loss. Court officials are highly educated and the honest ones who do remain here tend to spread their wisdom to the younger generation. In turn, the village hunters provide some of their fresh catch when the young ones are minded, while the farmers provide their children's teachers with the choicest of their produce.

Confucius once wrote that among the three people walking along the road, one would definitely have something he could teach. The villagers understand this, and thus they compensate scholars for their kind attention. The younger generation imitate their parents and value whatever wisdom those from court pass down.

This was a village where hard work was valued, but knowledge was _revered._

* * *

It all comes to head when a messenger appears at the _village of exiles._

A member of the Dong clan had set off for the imperial exams and had returned as a local clerk. He is not the most talented, but his ambition had seen him walk out of the safe haven that the village provides, such that he could make a name for himself. Dong Zhi had prayed for his success as a civil service candidate before leaving; Guang had had high hopes for him.

 _"The government wants to send a magistrate here. They say that the population is no longer small enough to be considered a village now."_ Dong Zhi writes back, his letter having been carried halfway across the country by members of the Li.

"We have no wish to take in a foreigner sent here by the government; he would only interfere with our affairs." The Li clan head strokes his beard in agitation.

"We have not paid taxes or tributes to any lords for the last four hundred years, it is no wonder they are interested." Says a member of the Jiang, who were always a level-headed set of people.

"Why should we? The government has never looked for us, past and present; we have always taken care of ourselves!" There went a branch member of the Zhang, angry and hot-blooded since his youth. Guang could still remember how the same boy had challenged his peers to rob peaches from the nearby grove, only to encounter trouble when a bull grazing in the field had caught them.

"We do not have the ability to defend ourselves." Jiang points out. "Our insularity has hurt us as we only have trade links via the Li, so not many know what goes on in the village. Let's give the new magistrate a try first." The village tries to renew itself by engaging in trade with the surrounding villages be it East or West, but its position on a mountain prevents easy access to anyone but the locals.

The fortress it has become has ended up hurting it. The mountain is tall, shielding the populace from strife. The forests are wide, they provide food and prey for villagers. Now, Guang finds, they have become the proverbial frog in the well.

Guang clears his throat, wary of any tension that the impulsive Zhang may bring about. The villagers perk up and listen to him attentively.

"We shall allow the magistrate in. But we shall speak with him before he enters the village." They agree, and praise his judgement.

* * *

Deep in his heart, he knows where his lord is. Such is the loyalty of a retainer to his lord, that he appears nearly instantly at the hermitage where his lord now resides.

The hut is silent. He kowtows before a bamboo screen, aware that his lord had been waiting for him.

"My lord," he begins, before he starts to recount the happenings of the village. The births in the Huang clan. The upcoming marriage between a Tao and a Li, to settle the disputed lands between the two families. The appointment of a new magistrate.

"You have done well." he hears, and inwardly he is pleased.

"Your village has grown." He thinks of the Jiang, whom had started a training school to teach others to defend themselves from bandits. The Dong, who have established a letter writing business for those who wish to communicate with their relatives. (1) The Lis, laden with goods from other provinces.

The outside world is finally looking for them. They can no longer remain the village of exiles.

"Times change, and we must adapt." The lord offers. _Or we become unable to decide our own fate,_ he answers, thinking of the magistrate candidate that the villager headsman and some of the other clan heads would encounter.

He stands, and bows. He knows he must go out to see the magistrate candidate as well. The village must be able to trust him; it is a two way affair between the leader and his subordinates .

"I will not always be here." The pronouncement sends him reeling. He staggers, as though his heart had dropped into the pits of his stomach. From furnace to unofficial land god, he had always felt safe in the knowledge that he would be able to rely on his lord.

But now-his security slips away, and he feels naked and protected.

* * *

The magistrate is startled to see three men, all in Han robes woven from cotton imported from Tibet. It is a calculated move designed to outrage, for how they could be savages if they wear the same dress as those who live down the mountain? And how are they subjects of the Tang when they choose cotton, as opposed to the silk robes that Tang officials wear.

The Tao clan head brings plum wine and peaches freshly picked from the temple's grove. The Li clan head prepares paper made from hemp and brushes of goat's hair. A cross-examination of the village's main exports, as well as a reflection of the practicality of the village.

Guang slips in as one of the servants. He wishes to ascertain the changes that this magistrate may bring.

"This figure-it's true?" The magistrate looks like a goldfish, his eyes wide at the population census that Li brings.

"We are not a rich community; but the mountain provides for us." The village headsman gives a kindly smile. Guang remembers that he had been chosen as village headsman precisely for this charming smile; the cunning is neatly hidden.

"But you have no rice or grain! How do you sustain yourselves?" Not true, but attempts at cultivating wheat by earlier generations had created a hardy crop that could grow even on mountains. It had been cross-bred with plants from Tibet, and the majority of the village relies on it for their daily meal. Some of the latter immigrants, having grown tired of the prey caught from the dense forests have turned to domesticating goats and cows, which graze on hills with gentle gradients. The vegetables, on the other hand, thrive on the mountain itself, flat lands having been cut into the mountain soil by the third generation Tao clan head.

"Our shops are dominated by the five clans, but other families have also improved the variety we got." The magistrate falls silent, his fingers interlocked.

The trio had been updated by Dong Zhi; Guang was aware of the usefulness of information to the town. The war for the village's independence had already started, even before the actual encounter itself.

By initiating the meeting place, they had prepared their own advantageous positions. At this time, the magistrate, according to Dong, had suffered a setback in the capital. He has very little political power; there would be no calling on troops from Tang to pacify the town. He had been frustrated at the lack of progress in his career.

On the other hand, the town has already prepared means of stopping communications between the magistrate and his counterpart from the nearby town. They are also united; for the Tibetan empire shows signs of expansion into _their_ mountain. Between the two nations, they have decided that the Tang would be more supportive of their culture. Furthermore, Dong Zhi and his fellow civil officers have a smear campaign ready should this magistrate tries to create havoc in the capital.

天时。地理。人和。The chance allocated by heaven. The favourable earth terrain. The harmony between the people of the village.

Magistrate, all three principles of war are on our side. We have the upper hand.

* * *

1) Guang enters his adolescent period. As a child, all seems well and joyful. As a young adult (hence the adolescent period), he still keeps in contact with his lord (or parent) but he is mostly in the village rather than a retainer to his lord. Now, he encounters difficulties, and decides that he must change should he wish to continue to survive.

2) Besides silk, which has traditionally been the choice of textile by the Chinese for clothing, I have chosen cotton. Traditionally, cotton had been grown by the non-Chinese in Yunnan, whom are culturally similar to the Vietnamese. The shock value implied here would be the fact that rather than silk, an expensive material usually reserved for the rich and for government officials, they have opted for cotton, heavily associated with barbarians from the south.

3) Village expansion. A village in Chinese terms is usually 500 to a thousand over. However, the mountain town has grown over that number, due to the occasional 'landslides' on conveniently vacant pieces of land, trade of Tang and Tibetan products, as well as a constant influx of people fleeing from conflicts such as the War of the Eight Princes has led to expansion. This has led to the creation of a village headsman as well as an informal town council that helps to govern the area. In contrast, the Tang created a system of military districts (similar to the Western marcher lords or legates) who protect border towns. While the Tibetan empire had not expanded so far as to threaten Tang control, the barbarians from the west have spread their influence to the capital. Thus, the magistrate here is a _jiedushi_ or military commissioners.

I had deliberately left the year vague but it's actually during the Tang period. The first seven emperors created a golden age for China similar to the Han period, but after the An Lushan Rebellion, the use of military commissioners had led to the creation of individual warlords with armies.


	3. Bonds

The magistrate agrees to take up his post, but the one to whom reports are made, to whom people trust to judge their cases fairly is still the headsmen. Some of the funds previously allocated for future use are now redirected to the government, but both the magistrate and he knows that the amount of taxes paid is being deliberately understated.

The Li have diversified, pooling the money they collect by travelling the country into the reserves of his temple. The town knows not to touch this, but the newcomers do not.

The first is a man named Jia, who had arrived with the magistrate. He is kind-hearted, loyal to his lord, but the thoughts of providing his family with a better life is too tempting, even with the support that the Dong offers.

He steals into the temple.

Jia finds himself deposited on the doorstep of the magistrate's temporary office. He takes it for the warning it is, and leaves the temple alone.

The second is the magistrate's brother-in-law. Having expected to ride on the coat tails of the magistrate into village society, he becomes the village pariah instead, having stalked the women of the town all too frequently. His gambling debts have piled up, courtesy of a vengeful Zhang whose wife he had approached for sexual favours. Now, he sees the easy way out of his problems by stealing from the temple.

He never makes it past the first door. Instead, he is tied up to a tree next to the village headsman's house, with vulgarities splattered in ink all over his face.

His second try amounts to a visit together with his sister. While the sister burns incense, he slinks into the antechamber where he thinks the gold is stored.

This time, not only does the headsman send a warning letter to the magistrate, there is a taboo placed on him by the village. Now, no one in the town would even speak a word to him, only nodding and politely kicking him out of their shops.

He cracks under pressure, and leaves. No man is an island; the rascal is no exception.

The hue and cry brings the magistrate to his temple, ostensibly to investigate the robberies his brother-in-law had attempted. The village headsman meets him there, eyes tense, mouth primed. This is only his first month on the job; yet so much trouble had been caused by his arrival.

"This superstition about the temple—"The magistrate begins, but his mouth closes upon the appearance of Guang emerging from the shadows.

"I'm afraid you do not understand. It's no fairy tale." The village headsman comments with mirth in his eyes.

"I am afraid I do exist. Guang, the caretaker of this temple and town in more ways than one." He introduces himself formally to the magistrate for the first time.

"You, you're the resident god here? Impossible, such do not exist—"the magistrate replies, a fervent Buddhist. Guang tolerated the new religion at best, but this is just plain _ridiculous._

"Watch," he utters, and switches from the form he usually holds to his mortal self. The magistrate gasps, unable to control himself.

"Impossible! Who are you?" The magistrate bellows, his frustration at being posted to this desolate area, the conflicts between his first and second wives and the inferiority at being second to the headsman building up to a boiling rage.

"I?" Guang smirks at the magistrate. "Just a immortal gadfly that has shielded this place from harm. We may be small, yet I assure you that I have always put the welfare of this village before my own. Which I cannot say for you, Your Excellency." He mockingly bows, before changing back to his previous image.

"We understand your frustration at your own position." The village headsman attempts to console the rapidly reddening magistrate, "But we have always been on our own. Though we are not at the top of the mountain, we are still reasonably secluded, and thus we have always been inclined to self –rule." He shoots Guang a dirty look, which Guang returns unrepentantly. He cannot stand this foreigner, who knows not of their customs and does not try to assimilate.

* * *

They have seen the Tibetan Empire expanding; the capital had noticed it, and thus send their representative over to manage it. Before the year is out, the Tibetan run away, fearful of this strange new force that fights nothing like the Tang Chinese.

The magistrate wants to call for aid when reports from border villages come in, but as the capital is being threatened by former favourites of the emperor, there would be little help expected. The town is left to fend for itself like it always has.

Tao Yuji, the second female head and the twentieth clan head of the Tao is in charge of the rear. Her charisma with the entire village had earned her plenty of suitors during the flower of her youth. Now, it stands her in good stead as her former wooers—clan heads and business owners send her food and clansmen to take part in the war.

Guang remembers the bloodbath of Red Cliffs, and recalls the reports made from Yiling. War is cruel; it has no winners, only losers on both sides. Yet the younger generations, grown soft from years of peace and insulated in the town think that there is glory and fame to be won.

Yuji fails to listen to her elders, too headstrong to believe in anything but her sword and her men.

The first casualty is her cousin. The second was one of her suitors. The list goes on and on.

The first skirmish claims five hundred lives. The survivors, a paltry two hundred straggle back to the village. Yuji's eyes are filled with grief. Her hands are shaky as she clutches the incense, tears rolling down her cheeks. Next to her, the Li clan head wails for the loss of his brother.

They have tasted loss and defeat. In Sun Tzu's Art of War, he advises people to learn from their defeats and be humble in victory.

Guang understands this principle, which is why he uses Yuji's stubbornness to his benefit.

"The Shu, lead by your ancestor have always fought from a position of weakness. We can use it to our advantage now." He advises, as he rolls out a map depicting the terrain of the area. The Tibetans wish to control the area, and thus they would try to take over the surrounding villages before attempting to take the fortress at Chengdu. The town's laissez-faire treatment of their merchants makes them believe that the town is a pushover, and Yuji's defeat enforces it.

Let them think so; Guang mutters, we would take the initiative by pretending to sue for peace. The magistrate is alarmed; he did not wish to be a traitor and allow the Tibetan an inroad into Chengdu and forward into Chang'an.

Their objective is Chengdu, so let's create a fake route by leaking out information of a pass through the mountains. We would then ambush them through the outposts that the Li and Jiang had made. Echoes of the failed strategy Zhou Yu had tried to pull.

"There is no pass, they would know it to be false!" Li retorts.

"Exactly, which is why Zhang Lu would be drunk as he exclaims that the path through the Qi Mountains is no longer possible, while your Li; whom are known to be residents of the local area tell a different tale. They would sooner believe your clansmen as compared to Zhang Lu, which they see as being too intertwined with the town." He answers.

Zhang Lu hears the plan and agrees, walking into the Tibetan base camp. The Li, through one of their in-laws within Tibet, assure the invading force that Zhang Lu is lying and that there is a true path throughout the mountains, and that it was used by the Li to move into Chengdu.

The Tibetans move through the mountains, only to be befallen by arrows and falling stones. Yuji stares at the killers of her expeditionary force. Three thousand lay dead in the night; the Li clan head 'looks after' the stragglers.

* * *

"I wish to see a Son of Heaven." His lord whispers in his dying breaths. He nods, and proceeds to kidnap the current Tang emperor by rushing into the palace in the form of a dragon.

Reports throughout that autumn vary, but they agree on one spectacular phenomenon: a man wearing a golden yellow robe was clinging onto a dragon for dear life as he roared through the heavens.

His lord quirks up a smile as he lands in front of the hermitage, rolling over such that the emperor could get to his feet.

"My time is past, but I know that you have trouble pacifying the populace. Furthermore, there is unrest with the border lords." The lord breathes out, as the Son of Heaven kowtows before him. "Use my disciple to quell the strife, by showing your mandate of heaven by riding him. Remove the military powers with the border lords by treating them to a banquet, before robbing them of their power by drinking them under. From there, open a new golden age."

He collapses, and Guang watches as his lord dissipates into smoke and dust. The emperor kowtows eight times, before getting up.

His father had lost the trust of the people and now it is his to regain.

Guang, unwilling to play propaganda but knowing the value of a peaceful populace, takes to the sky again.

* * *

After the joyride through the heavens, Guang shuts himself into the temple's antechamber. It is not long before he starts to howl.

The regret he feels at not accomplishing his duty to his lord _which which is his_. Frustration at remaining long after his lords' deaths and the deaths of five hundred of his _children_ overwhelm him.

The village headsman does not know what to do. Like the town, he had never seen Guang in anything but perfection, ready to serve as a sounding board to members of the populace.

The magistrate, now on his second year, walks up to him. He recognizes kinship between two displaced strangers.

"Where was your home?" Was it still Nanyang, home to intellectuals like him? Was it Chengdu, where he dwelled for over twenty years and where his name was made? Or was it here, where he had spent close to four hundred years looking after his refugees-turned-village? He no longer knows.

The magistrate, for the first time, looks at him. Not as the pesky village god, not as the one who enforces the town's rules at the expense of his dignity, but as someone who had lost everything he held dear before. The tense relationship thaws as Guang wails his misery and guilt to the magistrate.

The town hears this, and the magistrate starts to see respect in the eyes of the populace.


End file.
